The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1887-04-08
HER BOATMAN.

lks some gigantic serpent half over
Some by the letnargy OF sleep.
Here and there the moonbeams fell
1pon the surface of the water, great
lpots OF silvery wilderness, amidst the
lark shadows cast by the heavy foil
lge Of the cedar shrubbery which grew
between the almost perpendicular
rocks OF the high banks.
Fifty feet above the surface of the
water they reared themselves, and at
pne point they jutted forward as if to
salute each other, while the river be-
Meath them deepened and narrowed.
At this point a bridge had once been
thrown across-a bridge which had
become a complete ruin, one timber
alone remaining to mark thespot; one
long and narrow beam-it could not
have been more than six inches in
Width-still maintained it's place, and
In telanguage informed the stranger
That once there had been connection
between Rocky Hill and the mount
aims on the other side.
Upon the surface OF the river there
was a small rowboat, containing a
slender, crouching form wrapped in a
dark cloak.
From the top of the bank upon
either side this roWboat would have
been invisible, but It was there, max
Ing its way up and down past the
rocky buttress which upheld the beam,
always avoiding the moonlit spots
hpOn the river.
The sounds OF carousal were usurp-
ing the place Of the quiet of the night,
the drunken jest and the coarse laugh
ter breaking in upon the sentimental
hOtes of "HOme, Sweet Home"-sung,
Eou would have averred, by some
lonely youth who was far from the
tcenes of his bUyhood-came plainly
10 the ears of this silent watcher upon
lhe river, who, it seemed, could not
lear herself away from the sounds
which came from the the saloon upon
the rivers bank.
SllSC OIllN NAN IN IIlOOllDCObAlC lCbll
upon her fair, upturned face.
1t was the face of a woman who
should neve have been in that wild,
lonely spot, listening for the sound Of
a voice which had grown to address
her with refined words which were the
CrueIest of the cruel, waiting there up
on that lonely river, for-she knew
not what.
Muriel Warner was the daughter Of
wealthy parents. She had married,
when very young, man whom she had
Worshiped as the embodiment of man
ly worth and the perfection of manly
crowded about her with envious con
CALCULATIONS, and for a time her life
vas perfect happiness.
But a change had Fred War
ner was not what he had seemed. On
ly a few short weeks OF happiness, and
the handsome husband had plunged
into the widest dissipation. Friends
remained to her as long as the money
remained, and then they began to hint
that perhaps Muriel was not altogeth-
er blameless.
This was something which the spir-
tied wife would not stand. She broke
With relatives and friends and chung
20 the dlssipated man who was her
husband. From one city to another
be had dragged her withhim, and now
ae had deserted her and she had fol-
owed him.
His was the cultured voice, which
yarbled of ttHome, Sweet Home"
while his wife was a penniless, half.
RACED creature, out upon the river.
And she was penniless, for, regard
less OF food or shelter, she had paid
out her last cent for the use of the
boat which brought her, unseen, yet
nearer to him.
A quick, sharp report broke inupon
the mellow voice of the singer.
1t was the reportofarevolver. Mu
Iiel could hear the excited shouts, the
heavy trampling OF feet, the banging
Of a door, and then the weird cry,
tMurderl''
Half paraIyzed, the frightened WON
an rested upon her oars, just under
the beam which had once belonged to
the cid bridge.
The sound of heavy fest, rapidly APP
preaching, came from the bank close
at hand, and then a dark form rushed
out between her and the moonht sky
above her.
1t was a mans figure, and he was
attempting to cross the river upon
the narrow beam.
Excited shouts and the tramp OF hur.
ried feet followed him to the rivers
brink.
"Stopt" shouted a voice. Il ar
rest you for murder"
Nc reply came from the escaping
figure, which sped nimbly along its
narrow way.